One unfortunate thing about our car is that we have no cd player and the radio works intermittently, so the driver (when bored with conservation) gets to wear headphones and listen to the ipod while the passenger has to listen to the driver sing. (Ok, D wants me to clarify that it is only I who sings out loud). Mercifully, D fell asleep pretty quickly once this started, wearing an inflatable neck pillow that makes him look like he has had a spinal cord injury. While he slept in blissful ignorance, I learned that it is dangerous to drive and listen to Cotton-Eyed Joe at the same time. (Don't judge my music. That song is on my play list because it brings back fond memories of line dancing in grade 7 gym class.)
Anyways, 856 km later, we arrived at 2am to my childhood home where we enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving (more on that later). And we made it one piece.
Oh, and I saw the batmobile pass me on the highway. Twice.